


Can't Sleep Love

by Purplesauris



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Cavin hates Fridays, Drunk Kissing, Fights, GTA AU, M/M, Michael's thighs though, based on a prompt, hints of sexual themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplesauris/pseuds/Purplesauris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin hates Friday's. It's a fact that the whole crew is used to, and he prefers alcohol and seclusion on those days. Sometimes there's a rare visitor, but Gavin doesn't ever count on it. He always shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Sleep Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a prompt I got from Xanzs over on tumblr. Thanks for the prompt!! I had fun writing this, and it's so sweet <3 As always, love the fic? Hate it? Found a speling or grammatical error? Tell me so at purplesauris.tumblr.com or right below in the comments!

Gavin really, really hated Fridays. It wasn’t because the day itself was bad, wasn’t even the fact that to what friends he did have it was the end of his ‘work week’. No, Gavin hated Fridays because Geoff and Michael always got drunk on Fridays, and their obscenely loud bickering over what video game is the best escalates into shouting, and after that, something that Gavin would rather not hear. Usually Gavin would join them, would slam back drinks until he couldn’t see straight and he woke up the next day feeling like a pile of shit that had baked in the sun for three days. Today, unfortunately, was another damned Friday, and Gavin debated whether he wanted to drink tonight or if he wanted to actually do what he was hired into the crew to do in the first place. Gavin wasn’t sure he really wanted to do either.

 

Ten minutes later and after his name had been called one too many times throughout the apartment, Gavin was stuck in an armchair in the living room, beer in hand to tide him over while Geoff made him some weird neon concoction that Gavin would never admit to liking. Ryan and Ray were squished together on the loveseat, diet coke in Ryan’s hand and a DS in Ray’s, both pairs of eyes trained on the screen while Ray played and Ryan commented occasionally. Gavin didn’t think the way that they were sitting seemed comfortable, but both men were relaxed, no signs of discomfort or unease on their faces. The facepaint on Ryan’s certainly didn’t help Gavin discern what he was feeling, but Ray was light, Gavin knew, so him being perched halfway on Ryan’s lap would of course not bother Ryan.

 

Michael was sprawled on the couch in, for some ungodly reason, short shorts, even as snow fell outside and the others were all sitting around in sweaters or jackets to keep warm. Gavin could see the way that Michael laid was so that Geoff could clearly see his thighs from the bar where he was mixing drinks, and Gavin snorted at the quick glances he caught Geoff aiming at them. Michael’s thighs are lovely, yes, but Gavin wanted his drink so that he could down it and then go to his room. His Xbox and computer were in there, and right now, he wasn’t in a very chatty mood. Michael seems to know, because he doesn’t try to talk with Gavin while they wait for their drinks, and when Geoff finally hands Gavin his atrocity, he doesn’t say anything either. Gavin sets off towards his room as soon as the drink is in hand, and no one tries to stop him. They all know that he doesn’t care for Fridays, and they respect his personal boundaries. Most of the time.

 

Gavin thinks about locking his door, but by the time it crosses his mind, he’s already sat down in the beanbag in front of his TV, Xbox controller in hand and half of his drink gone. Gavin doesn’t knows exactly what he’s going to play, but he’s going to play something, and he settles into a game of Minecraft to fuck around and build shit until the alcohol makes his mind too fuzzy to want to build anything other than dicks. He ends up building a house way on the outskirts of his world, and he barely makes the house as long as he wants it before the world boundary cuts him off. Gavin doesn't care, though, and keeps building until he's sucking air through his straw and frowning. He hadn't even gotten buzzed yet, and usually Geoff's drinks are stronger than this. With a dejected sigh Gavin stands up and wobbles over to the door, right foot asleep as he hobbles back out to the living room. Ryan and Ray are right where Gavin left them, now spread on the loveseat that they previously shared with Michael. Michael is nowhere to be seen, but Geoff is still sitting in the living room, sipping his drink with a smirk on his face.

 

Geoff looks up when Gavin comes walking in and he waves until Gavin looks at him. “Hey buddy.” Gavin makes a noncommittal noise, and Geoff catches on pretty quickly that he’s in a mood. “What’s wrong, the drink not enough?”

 

“Too weak.”

 

“Weak? Fuck dude I made that thing as strong as I usually do.”

 

“Make it stronger.” Gavin’s sentences are blunt and clipped, but everyone is used to them, and Geoff just hoists himself up to make Gavin another drink. Gavin goes to look out the window, and he hears Michael pad into the kitchen and start harassing Geoff. Not really harassing, more of flirting and making it take longer for Geoff to finish the drink, but Gavin is easily annoyed and he shoots Michael a look. He wants his drink as fast as possible.

 

Gavin hears a new, heavier set of footsteps, and he feels someone step up beside him. Gavin grunts and goes to take a step to the side, but a hand catches his wrist softly. Gavin could pull away, but he knows instinctively who it is that’s grabbing his wrist. Gavin stops, turns his head and finds them watching, and he looks away again. Slowly the hand on his wrists slides down, and their palms slide together as Gavin’s fingers fit in the spaces between the other’s’ fingers.

 

“Bad Friday?” Gavin nods, and he’s tugged back over that space he made, his gaze stubbornly set on the landscape outside the window. “Two for alone, one for company.” They murmur quietly, Gavin biting his lip. Gavin squeezes once, and there’s a soft sigh.

 

Gavin opens his mouth so say something, but Geoff interrupts, and Gavin’s teeth click together audibly. “Hey Jack, give Gavin his drink and leave the kid alone. It’s Friday.”

 

Jack turns, hand dropping from Gavin’s before Geoff can notice, and Gavin feels a pang in his chest that he works to ignore. Gavin turns and takes the drink straight from Geoff instead, immediately heading off again. He doesn’t wait for Jack, doesn’t do anything beside walk to his room and sit back on his beanbag in front of the TV. Gavin takes a sip of his drink and the bite of alcohol on his tongue tells him that Geoff made it strong, like passed out drunk strong. Gavin starts chugging it, ignores the brain freeze the slush gives him, ignores the flavors mixing together, until the glass is empty. Gavin sits there for a while, starts up a game of tetris despite being horrible at it. It’s an hour later when the alcohol hits, and Gavin is plowed by the way his vision blurs and his head swims. Jack hasn’t come to the room, and for some reason that makes Gavin want to cry. He’s not an emotional drunk, dammit, but Jack offered, and now he’s backed out. Gavin pouts sullenly while sitting on his beanbag, and he sloppily crosses his arms.

 

There’s a soft knock after Gavin has pouted for around 10 minutes, and he huffs, stubbornly turning from the door. “Gavin, c’mon, look at me.” Gavin huffs again, a petulant little noise, and he hears Jack sigh. “Did I do something wrong?”

 

“You’re late.”

 

“You didn’t give me a time.” Jack points out, but Gavin glares at Jack, and Jack just rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a child, I was helping make drinks, and you know that takes a while.”

 

“You didn’t come right away.” Gavin continues on the path his drunken brain has taken him, and he sees a blurry Jack roll his eyes once again. “It’s too late, you gotta.. Gotta go.”

 

“Is that what you really want, Gavin?” Gavin blinks, and his vision finally focuses when he sees the reflection of the TV light glinting against Jack’s glasses.

 

“Want you to kiss me.” Gavin mumbles, Jack leaning back as Gavin leans forward.

 

“You’re drunk, Gavin. You want to kiss everyone.” Gavin feels indignance rise in him, and he harrumphs before turning away from Jack and ignoring him completely. Gavin hears the clink of a glass being set down, and Gavin can’t ignore the impulse to look, and he sees another drink being set in reach by Jack. Gavin didn’t hear Jack leave, and he didn’t think he’d given Jack that time, but apparently he had. Gavin snatches up the drink, spilling some on his fingers and hand as he tips is back. Gavin drinks as quickly as he can despite Jack muttering for him to slow down. Jack is playing Gavin’s abandoned game of tetris, and he’s doing infinitely better than Gavin was. Gavin watches the colored blocks float down the screen as Jack racks up combos, and the alcohol is making him sleepy, Gavin staring at Jack.

 

“Why won’t you kiss me?” Gavin slurs, Jack looking at him with a level gaze. Gavin’s fuzzy brain can’t comprehend the emotion in Jack’s eyes, so he leaves it alone.

 

“Because I’m not going to take advantage of the fact that you're drunk.”

 

Gavin scoffs and he shoves the controller from Jack’s hands, climbing into his lap as big hands land on his slim hips, pushing. Gavin pushes against the grip, and Gavin wraps his arms around Jack’s neck so that he can’t be pushed away.

 

“M’not gonna sleep with you, I just want a bloody kiss.”

 

“Gavin, you’re going to regret it in the morning. Kissing Michael or Geoff is one thing.”

 

“ _Shut up and kiss me_ , Jack! I won’t even remember in the morning!” Gavin says angrily, and he can see Jack getting ready to argue more before he suddenly stops. There are hands fisting in the front of his shirt, yanking him forward, and Jack’s lips slot against Gavin’s, hot and insistent, done arguing, done fighting with Gavin when he’s stubborn and pissed and drunk. Jack can think of so many things wrong with this situation, of how mad Gavin would be, but Gavin is pliant under his hands, under his lips as he settles in Jack’s lap, thin thighs snug around Jack’s hips. Gavin has to spread to the point where he can feel it in his thighs, but he doesn’t care, refuses to worry about what Jack thinks of him for demanding that Jack kiss him.

 

Jack’s beard scratches lightly against his chin, and it tickles above Gavin’s upper lip, but Gavin ignores it. He actually kind of likes the feeling. Gavin’s arms are already around Jack’s neck, and one of Jack’s hands slides up to cup the base of Gavin’s skull, tip his head as Jack laps at the seam of Gavin’s lips. Gavin’s lips part, and Jack tastes the alcohol and fruit of Gavin’s drink when he licks at the roof of Gavin’s mouth. Gavin seems to like it, if the way his fingers twitch in Jack’s hair, grabbing a fistful to anchor himself. Gavin’s kisses are sloppy, eager, but Jack thinks that maybe if Gavin weren’t drunk it would be better, that Gavin would have more control over the way he’s nibbling at Jack’s lower lip and chasing Jack’s tongue when Jack coaxes Gavin into taking the kiss for his own. Gavin seems  content to let Jack lead, and Jack gladly does so, taking his time with each kiss, each slide of his tongue, and eventually Jack can feel Gavin sag against him, so he slows the kisses down until it’s just their lips pressing together.

 

Jack pulls away to see Gavin’s eyes glazed and glassy, and a dopey expression on his face. Jack can feel a pressing issue (Jack tries to ignore the pun he’s made in his head) the longer that Gavin sits in his lap, and Jack stands up from the beanbag. Jack hoists Gavin up and brings him over to bed, plopping him down on top of the covers. It certainly seems like Gavin doesn’t get whiskey dick, which if Jack were a worse man, would make him happy. But, Jack, despite being a criminal, does have morals, so he leans down and kisses Gavin’s forehead, dodging Gavin’s grabbing hands. Gavin squirms on the bed, pouting and looking at Jack lazily. Gavin opens his mouth to talk and Jack raises a hand, Gavin staying silent as his eyes widen.

 

“No. You’re drunk, and you aren’t thinking clearly. Go to sleep, Gav.”

 

“You’re just gonna leave me?” Gavin asks, lower lip wobbling, and he looks like he’s about to cry.

 

“Gavin, go to sleep.” Jack commands, placing one final kiss on Gavin’s lips. Gavin shudders at the tone of timbre of Jack’s voice, nodding and doing as he says. Gavin curls up under the covers, snuggling a pillow as he closes his eyes obediently. Jack goes around the room cleaning up, turning the TV and Xbox off before grabbing Gavin’s drink glasses and heading out.

 

~*~

 

Gavin wakes up with a raging headache and his stomach flopping everywhere. Gavin stumbles out of bed and makes it to his bathroom, dropping to his knees as he heaves into the toilet. His stomach cramps painfully, and another bout comes as he chokes and gasps on whatever breath he can get, tears blurring his vision. Gavin sits in his bathroom on the floor while waiting for another round of stomach cramps to come, and when no more make his stomach clench he shakily gets to his feet. Gavin brushes his teeth twice before he deems himself acceptable mouth wise, and he takes a quick shower to try and make himself feel better. It doesn’t help, and Gavin is already irritated by the lights and the hunger that moves in where the nausea once was.

 

Gavin pads out of the room, going to sit at the island in the kitchen even though there’s seemingly no one around. Last night is a blur, and Gavin remembers Jack come into his room, but he doesn’t remember what happened after that. His pants were still on, and his room was cleaned up, so he didn’t drunkenly sleep with Jack. That would be embarrassing, to say the least. Gavin doesn’t like falling all over the first person who shows interest, and even though he fancies Jack and would happily do something more than just flirt, he doesn’t think Jack is interested. The thought leaves a bitter taste in the back of his throat, and the headache that pounds in his head threatens to split his head open. Gavin groans pitifully, slumping on the barstool and resting his forehead against the cool granite. Gavin is in no mood to deal with people, and he groans even louder to signal that whoever is entering the kitchen needs to leave. The footsteps don’t fade, instead get louder, and Gavin’s shoulders hunch up near his ears as he crosses his arms over his head.

 

Gavin hears the clink of a glass and the faucet turn on moments before someone is taking his arm down from his head and pressing a glass into his hand. Gavin lifts his head slowly, squinting, and he sees Jack’s broad shoulders as he turns to get pans out of the cupboard below the counter. Gavin looks at the glass in his hand and realizes that it’s water, Gavin drinking it in huge gulps until the glass is empty. Gavin feels a little bit better after he’s gotten something into him. His stomach grumbles loudly and he huffs, wrapping an arm around his stomach.

 

“Hey Jack!” A voice calls, Gavin flinching as a bolt of pain is driven into his forehead. Gavin whines as feet come bumbling in, and someone slaps him on the back. It’s Michael, Gavin can only assume that it is by the sound of his voice and the way he’s relentless in bugging Gavin. “Where did you go last night?”

 

“I brought Gavin his drink and then I headed off to bed.”

 

“So who was Gavin having fun with, then, huh?”

 

“Hmm?” Jack looks up at the same time that Gavin does, both furrowing their brows in confusion.

 

“Oh c’mon, you didn’t hear Gavin last night? I heard him while we were leaving, he was being super loud.”

 

“Shut up, you dumb smeg pot!” Gavin snaps, Michael jumping as Gavin slumps back towards the counter.

 

“Who peed in your cheerios?” Michael asks, snorting when Gavin flips him the bird and stubbornly refuses to answer.

 

“Michael, he’s extremely hungover, leave him be.”

 

“Yeah well, we all have hangovers, he can deal.” Michael says, Gavin making an angry, indignant noise.

 

“Fuck _off,_ Micool.” Gavin gripes, Michael mocking him in a high whiney voice. Gavin bolts up and grabs his glass, throwing it at Michael. His blood is boiling, his head is pounding, and he doesn’t know what he did last night but Jack doesn’t need to know. Michael narrowly dodges the projectile and the glass slams against the wall, Michael staring wide eyed as Jack moves around the counter to grab Gavin’s arm lightly.

 

“Geoff!” Jack calls sharply, the sound of feet hitting the floor reverberating into the kitchen as Gavin breathes hard and Michael sneers.

 

“What, too afraid to admit whose name you were calling?”

 

Gavin sees red, and he yanks out of Jack’s grip, swinging wildly. Warm flesh yields under his fist and Michael’s head whips to the side, Michael stumbling back while his hand goes up to cradle his jaw. Arms wrap around Gavin, and shame, hot and heavy courses through Gavin at the way his body reacts to the touch as if the touch is being used in an entirely different way. Gavin goes slack as Jack takes a few steps back, and Geoff comes running in, making a beeline for Michael.

 

“What happened?”

 

“A spat is all. Gavin’s hungover and annoyed, and Michael is dipping into business that’s obviously got nothing to do with him.” Jack says, and his voice is chastising as he looks at Michael. Gavin tries to bite back the thoughts that occupy his brain with the way Jack’s hands are pressing against him, but it gets harder the more he tries to fight it. The shame is overpowering, though, and Gavin looks at the ground, calming down reluctantly.

 

“Jesus, can you two not handle yourselves for five minutes?” Geoff says, steadying Michael as he rubs at his jaw.

 

“He can’t take a joke.”

 

“It wasn’t a joke and you know it.” Gavin says viciously, jerking, and Michael sneers again. Geoff gives Michael a sharp look, and he huffs.

 

“Fine, I was being an asshole. Happy?”

 

“Say you’re sorry.” Geoff says, and he almost sounds like a scolding parent.

 

“Sorry.” Michael mutters, Gavin sighing heavily.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“Great, now kiss and make up.” Geoff says in a singsongy voice, Gavin rolling his eyes and Michael barking out a laugh.

 

“Yeah no, sorry Gav, I don’t see you that way.”

 

“Same.” Gavin mutters, Geoff ushering Michael out to try and ease some of the tension in the room. Jack lets Gavin go, and he sighs heavily, scrubbing his hands over his face. Gavin sits back at the island and Jack goes back to what he was doing. Jack is cooking something, and Gavin isn’t sure what but the longer he watches Jack cook the better it smells. Jack goes to get a broom and he hands it to Gavin with a pointed look towards the glass that lays shattered on the floor. Gavin goes to clean it up, dumping it in the trash can before going back to his perch on the stool by the island. Gavin sulks in the kitchen, not wanting to talk to anyone or do anything. Gavin can’t remember what happened last night and obviously he did something, if Michael was that insistent. “Hey… Jack?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“What happened last night?”

 

“You got drunk and then went to bed.” Jack says, and the reply almost seems rehearsed. When Jack looks at him  and sees that he’s unconvinced he turns away while talking. “You were in a mood, like every Friday. I offered to sit with you, and you demanded that I kiss you.”

 

Gavin’s breath stops in his throat, and he bites his lower lip while looking at Jack nervously. “Did you?”

 

“You were very persistent. We didn’t do anything other than kissing.” Jack reassures, Gavin making a vague noise of relief. They fall back into silence, and Gavin mulls over what Jack said. So, he was obviously alone, when Michael says he was getting funky, so he probably masturbated for the first time in years. How oddly pathetic. Gavin shrugs it off and stares at the grain of the granite while trying to will his hangover away. Gavin loses track of how long he sits in the kitchen, but all of a sudden a plate heaped with an egg, hash brown and ham scramble is set in front of him. Gavin blinks, looking up at Jack in confusion. “Eat. A good meal and plenty of water will make that hangover go away in no time.”

 

“You… Made this for _me?”_ Gavin ask incredulously, Jack nodding while looking a little confused. Gavin stares, dumbfounded, at Jack, and Gavin struggles to contain himself. Gavin’s heart aches, and it reminds him of early mornings at home, of Dan making sure he ate when he got too into his work, of mornings spent making up breakfast for the next few days to refrigerate so he could grab it without having to actually make it. Affection and fondness make Gavin’s fingers tingle, and he takes one of Jack’s hands in his own. “Thank you. No one, well, no one has done something like this for me in a long, long time.”

 

“Well, if we ever date then I’ll make you breakfast, hows that sound?” Gavin laughs, squeezing Jack’s hand, and he leans to press a kiss to Jack’s cheek.

 

“That sounds perfect.”

 

 


End file.
